The Alliance conference had yet to convene, and the title of marshal was only just beginning to take shape, yet the morale and fighting spirit at the front had already been stirred up in advance.
At this moment, noble officers everywhere were rubbing their hands together, eager to make a grand showing.
Hudson could understand the younger generation being fired up with passion, but the older generation joining in as well left him speechless.
The news had only just spread when the number of noble officers at the front suddenly increased. Many elderly relics had also rushed to the front to join the excitement.
In a world of the extraordinary, age could be overcome. As long as one's strength was sufficient, even someone over a hundred years old could still take up a blade and fight.
Without question, the strong were always a minority. Under the system of primogeniture, no one could guarantee that every family heir would be a cultivation genius. Most were ordinary people.
Many elderly nobles had only reached the Knight stage in cultivation, and their actual combat strength was even further discounted.
Personal combat strength was a minor matter. The key was that they had long since grown old and weary, lacking the courage to press forward without fear. They simply were not suited for the battlefield.
But what they were emphasizing now was participation!
Whether they would actually take the field and kill enemies would depend on the circumstances. If the situation worsened, these old fellows could still risk their lives.
In fact, during past Beastfolk invasions, when the fighting became most intense, a group of old fellows would step forward to trade their lives for the enemy's in order to preserve their families and the kingdom's legacy.
They had not fought quite so desperately